p.s. Hubbalicious, please don't massacre me for these photos. I still think you're the hottest guy on the planet.
Once upon a time, I looked like crap and decided to go to the most "ghetto" grocery store in town. "No one will see me", I thought to myself. Little did I know...
I'm leaving the grocery store and I see literally the. MOST. attractive. man. EVER! Walking out of the store. Holy Crap on a Cracker! What do I do?! Nothing. I'm super lame and suck at flirting. So. Hawt! Black hair. Punk Rock clothes. So edgy. Pale Skin. Pink Cheeks. Hubba hubba. I call my best friend at the time and gush on the phone. "What do I do?! What do I do?" She naturally tells me to go talk to him. Uh. Not gonna happen. I look like crap today. Bad hair. Bad face. Horrible acne situation. Nope.
THIS is what we were working with, people. Thankfully, this fashionista has come a long way.What is with those arm socks?! (Confession: I still have those. Maybe they'll come back?)
*whew* Glad that's over.
Fast forward 6 months later and in comes The Hottest Guy on Earth to our youth group service on Thursday night.
I start the hyperventilation. The heart palpitation. I
discreetly nudge viciously elbow my friend- whisper screaming, "THAT'S HIM! THAT'S HIM! That's the hot guy from a few months ago!"
Turned out he worked with one of our youth leaders at the chicken restaurant catty-corner from our church. Oddly enough, that's where we had Sunday School. Our first official meeting was in a chicken restaurant. It must be kismet. I love chicken.
Another fabulous memory: we were scrubbing potatoes to get ready for a church fundraiser. Apparently, I said something about how I didn't enjoy having "potato poop" on my hands and that's what sold him on me. Seriously. Potato poop. What is wrong with me?! Why am I talking about poop in front of this hot guy?
This is one of my clearer memories of the beginning of us - Thursday Night. Spring Break 2004. I'm walking with some of the youth girls, gushing about hot boy. And they keep telling me they think he's into me. I, of course, being as awkward as I am, don't believe them. He runs out of one the church trailers when I'm getting ready to leave and says, "Um, hey...can I get your number?" EEEEE! Squeal with me, ladies, hot boy just asked for my number! I couldn't find a piece of paper fast enough. So, I used the back of one of my deposit slips for my checking account. (Hot boy who is now hubbalicious still has that piece of paper.)
That Saturday - he called me. YES! For coffee at Java Dave's. I literally ran laps around my parents' house. It's a big deal, people. I don't run. I didn't run, but for hot boy, I ran around the house.
I still have the shirt I wore on our first date packed away in a box of memories. We sat for hours. Drank coffee. Talked. He laughed at everything I said. I felt like a comedienne and I liked it....
Stay tuned - - - these will continue on Fridays until- well- until they're over. :o)
Get your fashion on...